


melt your headaches, call it home

by honeyhealer



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Songfic, colorful or lazurite if you squint at times, like pg-13 level language (one f-bomb), oblivious gays, original - Freeform, originalshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyhealer/pseuds/honeyhealer
Summary: After canon, Red has returned to Mt. Silver for training, and honestly, a little isolation. Finally, he decides to come back to Kanto and is offered a place living with his friends—but things aren’t exactly perfect for the dexholders. Everyone’s holding their breath, wondering how Red will adjust to normal life, wondering if they all can get along, wondering if Green will finally spit out the secret he’s been keeping for years…or if someone will have to spit it out for him.
Relationships: Ookido Green | Blue Oak/Red
Comments: 12
Kudos: 168





	melt your headaches, call it home

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I’ve been having a bit of writer’s block recently. It’s not that I haven’t been writing—I’ve been writing a LOT actually, but I lose focus and never finish stuff. But FINALLY I have something that’s ready to post! Now, I’m experimenting with present tense and some stylistic choices here…(I kinda like the style? But I feel like the story itself might be lacking something?) Let me know how I do!
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by the song “Northern Downpour” by Panic! At The Disco. It’s one of my old faves, and when it came on my music a few days ago, I was suddenly hit with a bunch of vibes! Hope you enjoy! Rant over, read on! - Alice <3

**melt your headaches, call it home**

* * *

_i missed your skin when you were east / you clicked your heels and wished for me_

* * *

The message catches Green by surprise for a number of reasons.

Firstly, because it’s almost midnight, and the only one that ever texts him this late at night is Silver, who seems to be awake at all odd hours, and sometimes tries to spy on his sister via Green. Secondly, because Green is still awake at such a time—he prides himself on a _stable_ sleeping schedule, thank you very much, but every now and then he’ll have a restless night of worries, like tonight. Thirdly, because of the message’s content itself:

**Red:** _I’m coming down to Kanto._

Green reads the concise text multiple times before meaning sets in. Even then, his reaction comes as somewhat of a surprise; he’s probably supposed to be relieved. He’s usually relieved when Red texts—because it means he’s still breathing—but right now, Red’s message is sending a shot of anxiety coursing through him. He has a million questions, two of which are “how long from now will you come?” and “how long will you stay?”, so he covers it with:

**Green:** _How long?_

Red takes a minute to respond, and in that minute, Green worries that the first message is all he’s going to get. But then:

**Red:** _Not sure…_

Of course he’s not. When he left for Mt. Silver for training in the first place, he was _also_ unsure of when he’d be back. The only thing Red ever seemed sure of was when he needed to run, and when he needed to fight.

**Red:** _I’ll be going to Viridian first. Train from the mountain stops there. You’re still living there?_

He’s pretty sure Red knows the answer to that. Green is a gym leader, a reliable worker, a man who puts down roots, who can sit still for long periods of time. It’s a quality Red had seemed to admire. Fleetingly, Green wonders if Red is finally tired of a life spent sprinting—

_Don’t get your hopes up,_ he tells himself.

**Green:** _Still living here, still working at the gym._

**Red:** _Good man._

He keeps typing. Then he doesn’t. Green stares at the screen. A million questions, and no words feel right.

**Red:** _I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay long. It depends on where I stay._

**Green:** _We have an extra bedroom at our place, you know._

“Extra” is a stretch; they had purposely bought a four-bedroom place with the hope that Red might want to live with them someday. They never tell him, but the bedroom has always been his, really. A few couch-surfers have used it as a guest room, mostly the junior dexholders coming to Kanto for visits. But it’s never really been decorated, never been used. Blue once joked that they should convert it into something useful, like an office or an art studio for Yellow—but the conversation was never serious. It’s Red’s room. Red’s room that’s been empty since the very start. Sort of poetic, the way they build him into their lives, and yet the space remains vacant. Almost achingly so.

**Red:** _That’d be great if I could crash for a night or two._

Green squashes his disappointment deep in his gut, where he drowns all his other emotions.

**Green:** _You’re always welcome, for however long you want. Blue and Yellow are going to be really excited to hear about this._

That’s when it occurs to Green that he’s most likely the first and only one Red has told about his descent from Mt. Silver. In the past, Green was always the one Red texted first about his impulsive decisions—usually such decisions were things like eating a whole can of whipped cream, or something, not major life plans. Now, Green can’t help but question _why him_ , why not Blue, who encourages impulsivity, or Yellow, who encourages anything.

**Red:** _Thanks, I’ll be happy to see them too. You guys are probably the only ones I’ll be stopping to see._

**Green:** _You’re not going back to Pallet at all?_

**Red:** _No, not now at least. I’ve been away so long, I don’t think I fit in there anymore._

Huh. It’s an odd thing to bring up, but probably true. Sleepy Pallet Town isn’t exactly the right backdrop for the savior of Kanto, the legendary Pokédex owner, the Fighter. Still, Green is curious to ask where he _would_ fit in—certainly not on a mountainside forever, right?

**Green:** _Where are you going to go after Viridian?_

**Red:** _…Not sure._

**Green:** _You don’t have a plan? Anywhere else to go? Any regions to save?_

He hopes that last part comes off as lighthearted, but he can never tell Red’s reactions by his typed words.

**Red:** _Nope._

**Green:** _You could just go home, then._

**Red:** _…I don’t really have a place like that anymore, really._

Green stares at the screen, struck with the horror that his best friend of—how many years?—his best friend of an entire lifetime doesn’t have a place he wants to return to. He feels like he must be a bad friend, or he must live in a bad world, or _something_ is wrong here.

**Green:** _Yes, you do. We have an extra bedroom. And it’s yours. You can come stay here._

He doesn’t expect himself to offer this.

**Red:** _…Okay._

He _certainly_ doesn’t expect Red to accept.

**Green:** _We can work out the details at a time that’s not midnight, though._

**Red:** _Okay, that’s pretty reasonable. Will the girls be bothered, do you think?_

**Green:** _Are you kidding? They’ll be over the moon. They’ve missed you._

A moment later, he regrets the last message. He doesn’t want to indebt Red with others’ feelings, regardless of whether it’s true.

**Red:** _I’ve missed them too. And you._

Green’s head buzzes. He tells himself it’s just because it’s so late and he’s too tired.

**Green:** _I’ll be glad to see you here, then._

**Red:** _I think it’ll be good, being back._

Maybe there’s more to say, maybe there’s not, but the conversation ends there, and Green doesn’t overthink it, because he’s able to fall asleep soon after, able to save his worries for later.

* * *

Red is coming to live in their home. It doesn’t feel real, but by working out the details, Green slowly convinces himself that it is.

The girls _are_ over the moon, in fact. The immediately fly into a frenzy, cleaning up the apartment and figuring out which foods Red likes, to stock the pantry with.

“You never ask _my_ favorite foods,” Green points out, but he’s smirking.

“That’s because you have random and disgusting cravings,” Blue retorts instantly.

“We have an entire shelf for Yellow’s cereal!”

“Yeah, but cereal is harmless. _You_ do not need three different types of ketchup to put on your food.”

Touché.

It’s weird, how Red is part of the conversation now. They’ve made a group chat, just the four of them, to figure out the specifics of Red’s arrival. Where before Red’s name only appeared in whispers, now it feels like it is _sang_ throughout the apartment.

“We’ll have to go to the grocery store for _Red.”_

_“_ We should clean the bathroom again so _Red_ doesn’t think we’re gross _.”_

_“_ Yellow, please pick one of your cheerful plants to put in _Red’s_ room.

“But one of those succulent ones so it’s harder for him to accidentally kill it.”

Honestly…it’s nice. It’s as if they’ve thrown back some curtains in that old room and let in some light.

They also try to work out some particulars of Red’s belongings. He doesn’t have much stuff on the mountain, sure, but his old place in Pallet Town is pretty well-furnished, so when Blue realizes he’s going to give away most of what’s in the house, she decides to venture out to Pallet, to see if anything is worth salvaging. She returns later in the day, raving about how Red’s old couch is _so much more_ comfortable than their current one.

“There’s nothing wrong with the couch we have now,” Green says firmly, laying down the law.

“Come on, it’s hard as a rock!” The law has never meant much to Blue.

“It builds character.”

“It builds _backaches_ , is what is does.”

“I do get a little stiff when I nap on it,” Yellow pipes up from the counter, where she’s eating cereal. It’s 9 pm. Green briefly questions when this became his normal life. Or was his life never normal in the first place?

“I’m renting a truck.” Blue begins typing furiously on her phone, presumably looking up rental services but also possibly texting a random friend with a truck. Green couldn’t keep track of her connections. All he knew is, if she set her mind to it, she’d have a truck. “We’re getting that couch, and we’re getting it tomorrow.”

Green scowls. “Not tomorrow. Did you forget? Red will be here tomorrow.”

Blue raises an eyebrow. He hates the defiant arch it makes on her face. “So?”

“ _So_ , we have to pick him up from the train station. He was just living on a mountain, he’s no doubt forgotten the way cities work. We have to be there to keep him from getting run over by taxis.”

“Okay.” Blue turns back to her phone, nails clicking against the screen. “So you’ll go pick up Red, and I’ll pick up the couch with Yellow. That’ll mean we have one less set of hands with us, but I think we can do it, right Yells?”

Yellow nods, chomping her “Chimech-Os”, the cheerios which always turned her entire mouth a vivid blue. “I think we’re tough enough to manage on our own.”

Blue grins. “That’s right, you’re kind of a beast when it comes to heavy lifting. I remember when I moved in here—”

“Did you not hear what I said?!” Green bursts out, unable to stop himself. “Red— _our_ Red, idiot boy extraordinare—was just living on a mountain, and he’s finally coming back, but you’re not gonna be there to help him? What the hell kind of a friend are you?!”

Blue is perfectly still for an uncomfortable amount of time. When she does this, Green thinks she must have had practice in previous arguments. Maybe if she showed her real emotions as a child, she was punished by Pryce. Or maybe she’d learned the stillness from the time they’d been petrified in stone together. However long she stays frozen, it’s always enough time to make Green regret his words. Enough time to make him sorry, but never enough for him to be able to say it.

“The kind of friend that’ll be extra comfy on a new couch,” she says finally, but there’s no bite in it. The words just hang in the air for a few moments before she turns on her heel and stomps into her room.

Green groans and rakes a hand through his hair, effectively ruining it. No doubt it’s sticking up at all odd ends now, much like his mental state.

He feels something press against him and knows without looking that it’s Yellow. She dislikes fighting of any kind, but has a special distaste for conflict between him and Blue. He’s uncertain why; they happen near-daily, she should be used to it by now. But regardless, she leans against him and he lets her, as if they’re both believing that through the contact, she can somehow absorb his frustration. He loops an arm around her shoulders, expecting her to resume eating her cereal, but she’s not holding the bowl anymore. She’s holding her phone, and she hands it off to him.

He takes the screen in his hand. “What?” It’s the picture Blue sent to them earlier that day, an image of Red’s couch in his old house that she’d sent to both Green and Yellow with her plan to bring it home.

Silently, Yellow zooms in on something just behind the couch, something that Green hadn’t noticed. It’s just a plain cardboard packing box, but Green can see it’s already full of stuff. It’s too grainy a picture to see everything that’s in there, but Green could easily recognize some things as old knickknacks of Red’s. Stupid junk, like some ancient action figures he’d loved as a kid, but then—things that mean quite a bit more: a photo album (the cover held a picture of a young Pika) and Red’s baseball cap, the first one, the one he’d worn all the time forever ago. On the front of the box, in Blue’s loopy handwriting, is the word “BEDROOM”.

When the realization dawns on his face, Yellow speaks up. “Red didn’t want to go through the stuff at his old house, remember? He was just going to let it be cleaned out. I think…I think he didn’t want to have to deal with it. But it looks like Blue doesn’t want him to let go of everything he was.” Her voice quivers a bit. “I don’t either. Which is why I’m going with her tomorrow. So, you need to be at the station for him—for the Red that we have now, while we try to get the stuff that might remind him of the Red he’s always been.”

Green doesn’t notice he’s shaking until Yellow takes her phone back and he sees his hand trembling. Suddenly, it starts to feel like _he’s_ the one leaning on Yellow. He breathes air into the words that have been circling in his mind like a Mandibuzz—a vulture preying on him. “What if he’s different? People change, Yellow. I don’t know how…” _I don’t know how to be me if he’s not him._ He stops before he says it.

Yellow hums, like she’s trying to be comforting, but it sounds throaty—she’s upset too. “I think you’re right. People can change. Maybe Red…doesn’t want things to be the same. But that doesn’t change the fact that Red is special to us. Him changing doesn’t just make him un-special, out of nowhere. If he’s growing in a different direction, maybe that just means we have to grow too, if we want to find him again.”

It made sense, but it didn’t make him feel any better, somehow. “I just wish I knew how to fix it. For him.”

“I don’t know if it’s about fixing.” And the words surprise him, because Yellow is usually the first to jump right in and fix things that aren’t even hers to fix. She’s the Healer, the glue in the friendship, the one who lets herself be leaned on.

“What is it about then?” Green asks, because not having the answers is slowly but surely destroying him.

He feels her shrug, then let out a wispy sigh. “I’m not sure. He might have to tell us himself, what he needs.”

Green huffs. “He’s too dense. He’ll never tell us.”

Yellow untangles herself from his grasp carefully, and faces him head on. “Then we’ll have to ask.”

Green doesn’t want to ask. He doesn’t want to have to interrogate his friend for answers. He doesn’t want to hear Yellow’s thoughtful words, or argue with Blue. He doesn’t want to go back to how things were before either, because they were messed up then too, at least now he _knows_ about it—he wants some distant and uncertain future that is labelled in his mind as “happy”, but he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to get there without a map, a plan.

He’s getting a headache, maybe from proximity to Yellow’s _too_ - _soft_ softness or Blue’s abrasiveness. And either he’s getting worse at disguising his emotions, or Yellow is a little _too_ perceptive in her quest to heal others’ ailments, because she stops talking and steps back. Green doesn’t have any more words he can leave her with, so he pats her head awkwardly. She grins, teeth stained blue with her cereal. He manages a grimace back before he stalks off to his own room and shuts the door.

The last things he does before he goes to bed later on is take some medicine for his head and send off a text to Blue. Even though she’s next door and probably still awake—he can hear music playing faintly from her speaker—he doesn’t want to face her. So, he writes:

**Green:** _Sorry for today. Hope you know I didn’t mean it._

It doesn’t take long for him to get a response (though he spends those few moments overthinking his message):

**Blue:** _of course. thanks though._

**Green:** _While you’re there tomorrow, if you could save Red’s old fishing rod, that would be nice. It should be in a kitchen cabinet with some other gear. He used it to catch Poli._

**Blue:** _thanks for the reminder! boy’s in for a nostalgia trip! :D but…i really hope this helps, in some way._

**Green:** _Me too. Goodnight, Blue. Turn that music off and get some sleep._

**Blue:** _haha okay old man. goodnight!_

* * *

At the train station, it doesn’t take long for Green to find him—he always attracts attention, wherever he goes, whether he’s saving someone’s Skitty up in a tree, or just going about his life. Now, there are people slowing around where he stands on the platform, whispering to each other, asking if that guy over there is who they think he is, if he’s really Champion Red.

Green asks himself the same question. Because, Red looks like himself; and if not, he looks like what he _should’ve_ become—more mature, more muscular from training. And yet, as Green continues to look, the usual bits of Red that had always shone through weren’t there—this isn’t the same Red that he knew when he was ten, or even that he knew the last time they’d been face-to-face. This is a quieter, withdrawn Red; Red, but frayed around the edges like the brim of his old baseball cap; Red, but in an old sepia photograph.

Then he sees Green approaching, and speaks: “Hey Green. I knew you’d be on time.”

For a moment, there are two parallel images in Green’s head: the younger, wilder Red of his memories; and the older, well-worn Red in front of him. Then he smiles and scratches the back of his head, a bit sheepishly, and the youthful boy Red is back.

Conclusion: Red is different. And Red is the same. Somehow, he’s…both? Or maybe he’s a third thing entirely.

Whatever the case, Green doesn’t have much time to ponder it.

“And I knew you’d be late,” he says as he steps forward to grab one of Red’s bags. It’s heavy as hell—what’s in there, rocks? Probably a lot, if all his stuff is shoved into as few bags as he can carry.

“It’s not my fault—it’s the train,” Red replies, a hint of a whine in his tone.

_Yes. That’s him_ , Green thinks, relief ebbing in his stomach, as he leads Red through the crowded station, back to his car.

When they get to the apartment, Green goes to unlock the door and can hear that the girls are inside, talking animatedly—they left for Pallet before he even woke up, so he’s not surprised they made an extra effort to be home in time for Red’s arrival.

The door swings open. Green barely has the time to say, “We’re back,” before a figure rushes at them and throws itself into Red’s arms. He’s got good reflexes and catches her—it’s Yellow, oddly enough. She’s always been big into bear hugs, but her longtime admiration for Red often made her shy around him—Green guesses that missing him outdid any inhibitions, though.

“Alright, kiddo, let the boy breathe!” Blue laughs and sidles up to detach Yellow from Red for her own turn at a hug. “It’s good to see you, Red-o!”

Red looks overwhelmed, to say the least, but his arms still work, and he returns the second hug. “You too, guys…” He blinks at Blue when she pulls away. “Are you taller?”

Blue throws her head back and laughs. “Arceus, maybe! It feels like we’ve all grown up a bunch, haven’t we? But hey, we’re finally living our childhood dream!”

Red frowns. “What dream?”

“You said it yourself!” A wicked grin spreads across Blue’s face as she quotes him. “Remember? ‘Why don’t we all just live together’?”

Beside her, Yellow giggles. Green decides this is enough commotion for now. “Alright, let’s show him his room.”

“My room,” Red echoes, as if this is surprising. He’s also sure to send Green a subtly grateful glance—and Green misses how they always used to converse just by _looking_ at each other—but now’s not the time for that thought.

They let him be after showing him the room. Blue and Yellow are chattering, almost too much, but they take Green’s cue to let the man take in his new surroundings—Red always moved so fast, maybe he might find himself suited to a calmer life. That _was_ what he was looking for up on the mountain, away from everyone, right? Some peace?

So, Green and the girls return to the living room and try not to hover. Blue makes a show of sighing delightedly as she sinks into the newly-moved-in couch, which has knocked the rug a bit askance (Green is too tired to help them move it back, at least today). All the furniture in their apartment has always been mismatched, from Yellow’s hand-woven wall hangings, to Blue’s parents’ weathered coffee table, to Green’s favorite armchair he snuck from his grandfather’s old house. And now, the couch, a new addition to the patchwork of items along with their latest tenant.

Red lumbers out of his room to find them all sitting there, a little stiff. He’s wearing his hat—the one Blue brought back, the ancient one from his childhood; it clearly doesn’t fit anymore and there are some visible stains on it. And he’s holding his very first fishing rod.

Yellow gasps when she sees it, as if she hadn’t known it’d be there—actually, maybe she hadn’t, if Blue was the one to retrieve it. “How old is that model rod?”

Red brandishes the thing like he’s going to cast it out at her. “No idea.”

“That rod took _forever_ to find!” Blue loudly laments. “It’s a good thing Greenbean here has the memory of a Cufant and told me where it’d be.”

Red shoots Green a surprised look, like he didn’t expect his oldest friend in the room to remember nights spent journeying together, relaying stories of their first captures and long-ago memories. Like he didn’t take Green for the sentimental type—which was fair, he typically _wasn’t_ , except that he knew Red typically _was._ Like he’s noticing something new about the boy he’s known since age ten.

Green quickly changes the subject. “Your hat’s stupid.”

But the thing about knowing him since he was ten is that Red sees right through it, and smiles in the face of Green’s forced grumpiness. “Thank you.”

Blue rattles off about wherever she’d found the hat, and Yellow offers to wash the stains off of it. Red’s talking with them, but his eyes flicker back to Green more than once.

_Red is here, living in our home._

It’s strange to say the least.

* * *

Red takes time to _adjust_.

After the initial pandemonium of his arrival, the other three were forced to return to their normal daily lives—work, chores, eat, drink, sleep, rinse, repeat. Since he doesn’t have his own schedule yet—is it possible to have a daily routine whilst training on a mountain?—they leave him some things to do. Little errands, just around town, trying to reacclimate him to the rest of the world.

They’re careful with him. Gentle. As if they fear he might crumble under pressure. Red may be a mountain himself, but he’s certainly not built to withstand the volcanic stresses that the world tends to throw at him.

He seems to appreciate this, which is…somewhat unexpected, but not unwelcomed. Some days, he does grocery runs. Some nights, he attempts to cook dinner (or is the one to call a takeout place if dinner burns). Green expects him to get antsy after a while, but he doesn’t. He fits into his new life like he was made for it, like he’s the puzzle piece they always needed: he plays video games with Blue, he dotes on Yellow’s requests to do art together—coming home to see Champion Red _finger-painting_ is a sight to behold. He’s even been trying to teach Pika and ChuChu some tricks like they’re common house pets and not creatures who have been at the forefront of pivotal battles.

It’s entirely possible that instead, _Green_ is the antsy one, for once.

He should be happy now—all his Duckletts are in a row, right where he can see them. He’s glad Red is living with them, he really is, but sometimes having Red present feels like having a blanket that’s too warm over him. Part of him is stifled. And part of him relishes the feeling. When Red was living elsewhere, Green was worried about him, yes, but he was able to compartmentalize the worry, put it away in the attic of his brain in a box labeled “Thoughts About Red”. And now he’s here, and the box has toppled over and begun spilling all over the floor, making an absolute mess of Green’s mind.

Red has a system for organizing the fridge. Red bought a stupid-looking apron so he doesn’t spill so much on himself when he cooks. Red wears his key to the apartment around his neck, probably so he won’t lose it, but it seems he’s proud to brandish this symbol of his residence.

Red is here, and Red feels so real, so tangible, so _attainable_ , that it starts to hurt.

Because the box entitled “Thoughts About Red” had never been just worries about Red’s safety. They’d been hopes that Red would someday come back and be near. Wishes that he’d be more than just near. Wants that he might also stay up at night and wonder where Green is now, what Green has been doing, how it’d be if they were beside each other…

Green has always been quite proficient at ignoring them, but it’s gotten increasingly harder. They read the Viridian Times together on Sundays, and Red kicks him under the table when he thinks one of the comic strips is funny, and Green has to pretend he’s not savoring these quiet moments. Red falls asleep curled in the armchair—why did he have to be difficult and pick the armchair over the couch?—and Green pulls a blanket over him and resists the urge to push the hair out of his eyes. Their proximity is something both to be grateful for and to resent, in Green’s opinion.

If he’s being honest, he’s struggling a bit. He’s hoping he hides it well enough, but Blue corners him in the kitchen one night as he’s stirring up some soup from a can—he’d had a long day at the gym and missed dinner, so he’s having some late.

She doesn’t say anything, just strides up and plucks the wooden spoon from his grasp.

“Do you need something?” he asks, irritated, and takes his soup off the heat of the stove. He begins the process of portioning some out into a bowl, then the rest in a plastic container for leftovers.

Blue wields the spoon like it’s a sword, waving it around a bit before jabbing it in Green’s direction. “I’m here to address the Copperajah in the room.”

“I’m glad you agree. I also think that Pika and ChuChu smell very bad, and they should be bathed more often.”

Blue doesn’t bother with this response. She follows Green to the counter where he begins to eat his soup as if she’s nothing more than a Cutiefly buzzing around him. “You know you can’t hide from it forever. I’m trying to help you here.”

“I don’t need help,” he retorts, “I need to eat my soup in peace.”

“Green,” Blue starts, like she’s trying to retain composure but getting frustrated. “This isn’t going to just go away.”

“I’m getting over it.”

“I think you need to talk to Red!”

A door opens.

“I’m getting over it, and I’m _not_ talking to Red about it.”

“Come _on_ , Green, you haven’t been able to get over your crush on him since we were twelve!”

A door closes with a _thump._

Blue and Green both freeze. _It could have been Yellow’s door,_ Green thinks, in the split second before Red appears in the kitchen. He moves—not slowly, but not rushing either—to the fridge and takes out a bottle of an energy drink. Without looking at the other two, he turns and walks back to his room, slightly faster this time.

They wait for the door to close again before they look at each other and finally exhale. Blue has the decency to appear extraordinarily apologetic—it’s a rare sight, but Green can hardly appreciate it now. Instead, he does the only rational thing he can think of.

He gets rid of the goddamn soup and goes to bed.

* * *

**Blue:** _i hope you know i didn’t mean to do that. i was being nosy and trying to help but i NEVER wanted things to happen that way. i’m really sorry…_

**Green:** _It’s fine. You’re probably right. I’ve been thinking for a while now that I can’t hide from it. Besides, now we’re even from the time I tried to make you tell Crystal you liked her outfit and you ended up saying gibberish instead._

**Blue:** _actually, i SORT OF ended up telling her, but i also said her butt was cute too…which was VERY embarrassing. although she promised we’d go shopping next time i was in johto, so, small victories i guess? but thank you for not being mad at me._

**Green:** _Honestly, I think you and I tire each other out too much to ever stay mad. I’m just going to go to bed and worry about it later._

**Blue:** _good plan. goodnight greenbean <3_

**Green:** _Goodnight Blueberry._

**Blue:** _:)_

* * *

Despite what he texted to Blue, Green worries. A lot.

For the first time in the time that Red has been home, Green can’t sleep. He tosses and turns for hours upon miserable hours. And he thinks to himself, this isn’t the first time he’s lost sleep worrying about Red, and it most likely won’t be the last—but now he’s not worried about Red being stupid or unsafe, somewhere that Green can’t save him.

No, tonight, Red is just across the hall, probably tucked up in bed by now, sound asleep. If he were awake, though, there was no doubt he’d be thinking that Green is a complete creep. Having feelings like those, hiding them for so many years like nothing’s wrong with it.

Arceus, Green is never going to sleep again.

What if Red doesn’t forgive him? And their friendship is ruined? Or worse, what if Green really _can’t_ move on? He’s been telling himself for years, fooling himself really, that someday he’ll get past these stupid, unrequited feelings. But at every turn, he finds himself drawn back to that idiot, again and again. Every journey by his side, every heartbeat in tandem to his. Like they’re fated to remain together. Was this the universe’s cruel way of punishing Green for something he did in a past life?

He’s sighing and considering just giving up, getting up to read a book or something instead of just lying here, _anything_ to distract himself—when out of nowhere, there’s a light _thud_ against his bedroom door. Green briefly thinks it’s just the door doing some weird creaking, or maybe Pika or ChuChu wandering around, trying to be let into the wrong room, but then—it happens again. Almost like someone’s knocking (but what the hell kind of knock is that?)

He sits up in bed. He makes a singular attempt to smooth his hair and then resigns himself to being messy. “It’s open,” he says, only loud enough to be heard.

Almost painfully slowly, the door edges open. The hall outside is dark, but luckily Green left his curtains parted enough that some spare moonlight filters in and falls on the figure in his doorframe.

Red.

Green can’t fight the shock that’s undoubtedly written all over his face. Red looks sheepish as he steps into the room and quietly closes the door behind himself. He squints into the darkness. “Green?” he whispers loudly.

Green frowns. “I’m right here. Can you not see?”

“It’s dark!” Red protests.

“Your eyes are just weaker than mine I guess.” Green’s joking, but his heart has begun to pound. _Why_ is Red in here? To torture him? To formally end their friendship forever, right now, at 3:48 am? Green reaches to his bedside table and prays his expression is neutral as he clicks on his lamp.

Red blinks rapidly in the new light, and continues to squint at Green. Maybe he learned how to be quiet on the mountain, or he’s adopted Blue’s silence technique, _or_ he’s actually just adjusting to the lamplight, because he stands there without speaking for several moments.

Green sighs. Is he always the one to extend the conversational olive branch? “Listen—” he starts, but is cut off by a sudden movement. Without warning, Red steps forward. He doesn’t seem to care that Green is trying to speak, he just crosses the room abruptly, almost awkwardly, and doesn’t stop when he gets to the side of the bed.

No, Red—his rival, his best friend, love of his goddamn life, biggest idiot he knows—pulls the covers up and dives into the bed next to Green. Actually, Green has to shift away a little so that Red doesn’t completely knock into him as he burrows his way under the sheets, pulling the covers over himself like it’s totally natural for him to be all cozied up in his rival’s bed.

And then when he’s snug as a bug in a rug, he turns to stare at Green. “When did you know?” he asks plainly. Like anything he just did makes _any goddamn sense_.

Green blinks and shakes himself slightly, trying to dispel the concept that this is some insane dream he’s having. “Sorry, what?”

“When did you know that you had a crush on me?”

Oh, Arceus, _this_ is how they’re having this conversation? It’s hardly neutral ground; while it’s technically Green’s bed, Red seems perfectly comfortable leaning back on the spare pillow like it’s always been his.

“That’s a stupid question,” Green responds stupidly, because he’s gone into Deflection Mode.

“And that’s not a good answer.” Red huffs out a frustrated breath. “Look, I have a hard time understanding people’s feelings, and I want to understand this one ‘cause—‘cause we’re friends, and it’s important to me.”

_Oh._ So maybe he doesn’t actually hate Green. Maybe he just…wants to figure it out, so they can both move forward? If so, he has a hell of a method.

Regardless, Green humors him. If Red wants the truth, well, he’ll get it. It’s 3 am, and nothing matters anymore. Now that Red knows the big secret, Green might as well spill all his guts until there’s nothing left to be hurt by.

“…Since the beginning, I think.” To Green’s horror, Red scoffs. “ _What_?” Green nearly seethes. “That’s not a good answer either?”

Red shrugs. “Just seems like kind of a cop out, if you’re asking me.”

“Fine. Fine! You want a _good_ answer? It was when you almost crashed your bike into me.”

“Which time?” Green notices a hint of a smile on Red’s lips, and then he notices he’s looking at Red’s lips, and his eyes immediately snap away.

“Cerise Island,” Green mutters, looking somewhere else, anywhere else, in the room.

“Huh.” Red seems confused, or dissatisfied, and Green _knows_ nothing will get done if Red isn’t satisfied, so he goes on, still looking away because he feels a little braver when he doesn’t have to look directly at his friend. Instead, he watches the covers crinkle every time one of them fidgets.

“You’d been missing for months at that point. And—I’d been scared, if I’m being honest. You’re not invincible, you know.” He dares a glance to see that the smile is actually there this time. He continues, “I thought I was just worried, because—we were rivals, we were friends. But I saw you then, after everything that’d happened, and you just grinned that _dumbass_ dopey grin of yours, and…I knew.”

“Knew what?” Red asks.

Green scowls. “Weren’t you the one who asked me the question in the first place? You know what.”

“Tell me again,” Red says.

Green is about to tell him to piss off, he’s not about to take orders like that, but they’re already this far in the conversation, and the night can’t get much weirder. Plus, he _knows_. Green admitting it can’t possibly do much more damage to their friendship.

“…Okay.” He takes a breath, steeling himself. “I have—”

“Wait!” Red cuts him off, reaching out to grab onto Green’s arm as if to physically stop him. “Wait. Don’t tell me if you’re just going to say it plainly. Don’t just say the words like they’re normal, like you’d say them to anyone. People say things like this so often, and it’s nice, but it makes the big moments completely different, and—”

“Is this a big moment?” Green asks, because he’s genuinely wondering. He wasn’t intending to have a big moment at nearly 4 am in his barely-lit bedroom with his best friend tonight, but hey, if that’s where they were, so what?

“Shut up,” is all Red says before he begins to babble again. “What I was _trying_ to say, is that people say it so often now, it’s like, it loses its _zing—_ ” (Zing? Green wonders and squashes a smile because it’s so goddamn absurd) “—and if I’m gonna hear you say it after all this, I wanna hear it in a way that’s special, in a way that hasn’t been said before. And I know that sounds totally needy or stupid or whatever, but if I’m gonna hear it from you, I want to hear it right.”

While Red pauses, Green hesitantly questions, “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because…I never thought I’d really hear words like this from anyone. I never thought I’d hear that someone genuinely—I don’t know, _felt_ something about me, felt that I was important beyond just being the Kanto Champion, or the Fighter dexholder. And it kills me because I’ve become this person—this ugly, needy person—and I need to feel something, or be validated by someone, because I’m like, broken, I think.”

When he finishes, he catches his breath, like it was a greater effort to force those words out than it would be to go running. He lowers his head but still looks at Green like he’s waiting, waiting for Green to say something, anything.

Instead, Green _laughs_.

It starts out little and grows until Green is nearly howling with laughter, clutching at the covers of his bed and shaking his head, like he really can’t believe how funny this all is.

Red pouts and says, “Why are you laughing?” and he legitimately looks so much like a lonely Yamper puppy waiting to be pet that Green actually dares to reach out and ruffle his hair affectionately. “Hey!” Red yelps, and Green has forgotten that not everyone likes to be pet like that, but he also kind of doesn’t care, so he just keeps mussing Red’s hair, until Red finally shakes him off. “Hey, stop that! Why the hell are you laughing?”

Green finally calms down enough to speak, but his cheeks hurt from his smile—he hasn’t smiled like this in a long time, long enough that he can’t remember the last time, but he’s sure he was with the same idiot boy who’s caused it now.

“Because you’re not being needy,” Green says at last. “And you’re definitely not broken. You’re just being _you_. Talking too much and asking for the world, as if you really don’t know that I’m already gonna give it to you. And I’ve missed this version of you.”

“Wh…what?” Red stutters out, the confusion on his face so pure that Green almost can’t even handle it.

Green shakes his head, still grinning. He thinks he’s probably hysterical at this point, but fuck it, Red wants a confession? He’ll give him a goddamn confession. “Honestly, Red…all you have to do is ask me, and I’ll do it. I’ll give you the world you want. I’ll take down the moon, I’ll put up new stars, I’ll go through hell and back—I’ll do anything for you. It’s always been this way. You think I liked risking my life all the time? But it didn’t matter, because I was with you, so I could do anything. With you, I become someone else—someone who’s an idiot, probably, for all the stupid things I’ve done—but I’m also the bravest I’ll ever be. That’s what you do to me. You make me better, so it’s a selfish feeling, but it’s true. I love you, so much, I’m brave enough to do anything.”

The room is so quiet, it’s like all the noise was been channeled into Green’s words, and now, there’s just an absence. He almost worries he’s gone too far, said too much, but maybe it’s a good thing to finally air out all the unsightly feelings he’d been holding in for so long.

“Love…” Red starts. Green realizes then that Blue had referred to his feelings just “a crush”, but he’s just admitted to _love_ , and he begins to worry anew.

“Love makes you brave?” Red asks, eyes blown wide from surprise. Green is surprised too, at least, that that’s Red’s takeaway.

“Yeah,” he agrees, affirming. It’s over. It’s out there, once and for all. Red knows the truth of his feelings. “Yeah, it does.”

Red nods and looks away, like he’s thinking really hard about something. “Okay,” he says, more to himself than to Green. “Okay.” Their eyes meet.

Faster than Green can react, Red reaches out and grabs his arms, as if to keep him from running away. Then, he leans forwards and presses his lips against Green’s.

The kiss is quick, just a hard press against Green’s mouth—he hardly has time to close his eyes before Red is pulling away and opening his. He doesn’t pull too far apart, though, so Green can feel that his breath is going fast and shallow.

“Wait, what—?”

“I’ve had feelings for you for a really long time!” Red blurts. “Like, I wasn’t always sure what they were, and if it’d be weird if I brought them up, but even when we used to train together, I’d feel—!”

Green stops him by pulling him for another kiss, a _real_ kiss. It’s urgent, just to get him to stop talking at first, but Green softens when he recalls that feelings and kisses are all new to the two of them.

Despite being nervous, Red lets it become something slower, sweeter—something that is just the two of them, hesitantly pushing against each other. The kiss ends up as more of a conversation, both of them wondering if each movement is okay, and the other gladly accepting it, until they manage to find a rhythm together. By the time they break apart again, Red’s grip on him had tightened until Green was in his arms.

Green raises a hand to hold Red’s face, lightly brushing his lips with his thumb, as if to remind himself of their kiss, of their whole conversation. Red knows his feelings now. Red _has feelings_ for him now. They’ve kissed. It was a concept Green had hardly entertained in the past, so in the moment, he feels euphoric.

He feels Red sigh, a beautiful sigh, like everything in the world is right. “Can we hang out for a while?” Red asks. It’s a simple question with a million meanings, and Green has an answer for all of them.

“Yes.”

* * *

The lamp is turned out, and the moon has been mostly swallowed by gray clouds. It’s raining now, each drop pattering against the window in a light, steady cadence. Red seems more concerned with Green’s heartbeat, though, as he lies with his head on Green’s chest. Green’s just sleepily messing with Red’s hair again, when Red speaks up.

“I know I’ve been getting better and stuff, now that I’m off the mountain, but…is _this_ going to make things harder?”

By _this,_ he means _the two of us together_ , and Green is momentarily caught up in the wonderful feeling that _the two of us together_ is a thing now. But then he thinks on the question.

“No,” Green decides. “Like I said, when I feel brave I can do anything. And you…” he tried to find the right words to convey what he’s thinking. What he’s feeling, the rightness of this moment, like he’s been waiting a long time for this. Not just the two of them together, but Red being here in Viridian, in this place, with him. “You’re safe. Because now, you’re home, and I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go.”

Red cranes his head so that Green can see a lazy smile spread across his features. “I really like that. That makes me happy.” And when he turns back away and speaks again, it’s like he’s telling the world, telling Green, telling himself: “I’m home. Really, really home.”

* * *

_hey moon, please forget to fall down / hey moon, don’t you go down / sugarcane in the easy morning / weathervanes my one and lonely_

* * *


End file.
